Sweetheart, you look a little tired When did you last eat? Come in and make yourself right at home
Stay as long as you need Tell me, is something wrong? If something's wrong, you can count on me You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat
-Two, Sleeping at Last
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It was time to get discharged. Kim Doyoung's money and fame could not stop me from leaving and he knew that. I told him that I was leaving, Kim Doyoung telling me to get into his car. In the end, I was one year a junior and he wanted me to take care of me. But I knew it was more than that—it was pity and it was empathy. I didn't need it but I told him where I stayed, awkwardly sitting in the front seat of his car as he drove me back home.
We passed buildings and gray walls. He seemed to know where he was going and finally stopped where I told him to. We were back in Seoul, N-city—a place we had grown up in. A street between the 127 Mall and SM university... a street down from Exodus high school where we all studied in.
I got off from the car, bowing down halfway towards Doyoung who came out of the car. His black suit still pressed from all the moving he had been through and I wondered how it was possible. I smiled at him, thanking him for handling the hospital bills for me. With his help, it was a weight off my back.
"You're welcome," Doyoung replied and I gave him a smile. "Do you usually sleep at this time?"
"No," I told him, shaking my head. "I usually sleep a few hours from now."
Doyoung nodded, not saying anything, his eyes behind me at the rooms. I tilted my head at him, wondering why he just standing there. It was beginning to get awkward and all he did was stand there, hands behind his back while he waited for me to talk when I found myself blurting words I didn't expect would come out.
"You in a mood for tea?" I asked and Doyoung looked at me, his face unreadable before he nodded slowly. "I have chrysanthemum tea. It's a yellow flower. Sweet and refreshing."
I had to grab this chance. Not every day would I get to talk to the Kim Doyoung—I had to interview him. Make up a small story in my hand and write down a beautiful tale with Kim Doyoung as the male lead. I motioned him to follow me, my hands fumbling for my keys in my backpack before I inserted it in and turned it, pushing the door open.
Kim Doyoung followed me carefully, his uplifted eyes looking around my apartment in curiosity. I told him to sit and he did, folding his hands in front of him formally. I moved around the kitchen, brewing the tea for a good two minutes before I placed it in front of him. Doyoung eyed the tea carefully, lifting it up to his lips to taste it. I grabbed my notebook, flipping through it carefully before going to a fresh page.
"Can I ask you a few questions?" I asked, Doyoung nodded. "Is that why you're here? Because you want to humor a dying woman?"
"Mostly." Doyoung paused. "And also, because I was curious as to how a dying woman lived."
